


Never Another Dance Partner

by ConsultingWriter



Series: The Never Another Trilogy [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dancing, Epilogue, Fluff, I do what I want, M/M, Yes I wrote another one, finally a concrete happy ending, no i'm not sorry, no-angst, short epilogue, short fic, third in a trilogy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-05
Updated: 2013-04-05
Packaged: 2017-12-07 12:43:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/748639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConsultingWriter/pseuds/ConsultingWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The last piece of the Never Another Trilogy (didn't even know that was going to happen, it was only supposed to be a one-shot). For those of us who want a concrete happy ending. </p><p>John and Sherlock dance in the sitting room and Sherlock realizes the importance of dancing with John. </p><p>  <i>Walking back over to the boombox John presses a button down and then turns to Sherlock and gives him the look. The one that says that Sherlock will do what John wants and he will do it now (that was one of John’s rules, if he gave Sherlock that look it was because John wanted them to do something, together, and Sherlock owed it to him to “get his head out of his arse and let me be romantic”). </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Another Dance Partner

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly couldn't help myself guys, and I know your probably thinking "Are you kidding me, she wrote another one?" but this is the end, I promise.  
> The song is You Make Me Feel Like Dancing by Leo Sayer. Good song, you should listen to it.

Sherlock blinked when John stood up from his seat on the couch and turned off the telly. Sherlock turned and watched the other man as he turned and walked into their bedroom— _their bedroom_ , the words sent a small thrill down Sherlock’s spine even after a month of sharing a bed; there were times, even after they had started to repair their relationship, when Sherlock thought that John would never trust him enough to share a bed again—without a word to the detective.

Sherlock cocked his head and listened to John rummaging around in their room. With anyone else, Sherlock would have already determined their motivations but, as always, John was a surprise. Sometimes Sherlock didn’t know whether John’s unpredictability was frustrating or fascinating. One on hand it meant Sherlock was never sure what the army Captain was up to, but on the other it meant that John was never boring like the rest of humanity. He thought that might be a good thing.

When John returned downstairs Sherlock felt a moment of shock before settling down farther into his chair as s small pool of guilt and sadness bubbled in the pit of his stomach. It was the boombox. John hadn’t touched it, not even once, since he had moved back into Baker Street almost two months after leaving on that terrible night (John had stayed in the bedsit he had leased after leaving their home and had decided to stay there until his contract was up to give them time to talk and work through their problems), saying that he would use it when he felt like they were ready. Sherlock didn’t know what he meant at the time, but he thought—with John’s slow tutelage—that maybe he was beginning to learn. He was fairly sure that since it was supposed to be a present on the day of their anniversary—the day of their union, when they became Sherlock&John, partners—that John only wanted to use it when he felt like they were a complete unit again, not two people trying to fit the broken pieces back together. He wondered if it meant something that John was not only handling it, but bringing it out of their room.

John used his legs to slowly nudge the small coffee table against the couch, sat the player down and moved to push his own chair against the bookshelf, clearing a space in the sitting room.

Walking back over to the boombox John presses a button down and then turns to Sherlock and gives him the look. The one that says that Sherlock _will_ do what John wants and he will do it _now (_ that was one of John’s rules, if he gave Sherlock that look it was because John wanted them to do something, together, and Sherlock owed it to him to “get his head out of his arse and let me be romantic”). He shuffles over slowly, dipping one shoulder at a in towards his center and then back out in time with the music.

When he reaches the darker haired man he holds a hand out and Sherlock places his own in it, allowing himself to be pulled out of the chair and close to his lover.

“You got a cute way of talkin’,” the doctor began lowly, and Sherlock felt the vibration in his own chest they were so close “you got the better of me.”

Keeping his hold on Sherlock’s hand, John raises his other to settle on the taller man’s bicep for a moment.

“Just snap your fingers and I’m walkin’,” he walked his fingers up Sherlock’s arm to rest on his shoulder, leaving Sherlock to cup his free hand around the doctor’s hip “like a dog, hanging on your lead.”

“I’m in a spin you know, shakin’ on a string you know?” He spun them in a half turn so that he faced the couch while Sherlock faced the fireplace.

“You make me feel like dancin’,” With a smile John began to move step back, then another, then a stop forward and then two more steps back and a step forward and then he quarter turned them and repeated the process, gradually turning them in a slow circle. “You make me feel like dancin’, I’m gonna dance the night away.”

Sherlock had asked John over the phone one night—that had been another of John’s rules, Sherlock was to call John when he wanted to talk about something unless John was at work, or the message was short (he had used “please bring home milk” as an example) and then it was alright for Sherlock to send him a text—why John danced with him so often. _“Dancing is intimate Sherlock; you can use it to express so many things to another person, in some ways its more intimate then sex.”_ Was the answer John had given him; he let it go because, though he would cut his tongue out before admitting it, he enjoyed being so close to John for no other reason than to simply move as one person with no lust or ulterior motives involved. He thought it was rather like their relationship, partners moving in time with each other and very little words necessary.

**Author's Note:**

> Show me that you like it by reviewing. Review even if you don't like it and tell me why, yeah?


End file.
